Room 102
by Authenti
Summary: That unused guest room between Catherine's and Neko Zombie's. You know the one. It has a temporary resident now... but guaranteed Gregory will be told to make her stay permanent by his mama. She's a weird kid at heart. Maybe she will fit in here.
1. Last Train To Nowhere

The train journey was a long one. She'd fallen asleep a long way back. Had she missed her stop? Either way, it had been the last train of the night. She was tired. Someone had nudged her awake, so she turned.

"Last stop. This train doesn't run again until next week. Maintenance issues."

She nodded at the ticket inspector, then stood up to leave. He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Be careful."

She gave him an odd look, then stepped off the train. She wasn't aware that those were the most sane-sounding words she'd hear for a long time; so of course she didn't take them to heart.

The woods didn't echo like they should have. The fog made her footsteps seem like they were the only ones in the world. Like she was shut off. It felt like she was underwater – that is, enclosed and muffled. The feeling passed. She was still alone, but there was a light ahead. Two. Either side of a set of ancient wooden doors.

She approached, and knocked. It was a few minutes before anyone answered.

An old mouse answered the door, giving her an unreadable look and pushing the door so that its hinges creaked. She entered at his gesture, and noted that he was wearing a nightcap and pyjamas.

"I'm sorr-" She cleared her throat and spoke a little quieter. "I'm sorry I'm here so late. I missed my stop on the train."

The mouse smiled, although it wasn't the most pleasant of smiles, nor the least disconcerting. "It's alright, miss, just you relax. We get the majority of our guests in the later hours. So far, however, we haven't had one at three in the morning. Come, come. I'll show you to your room."

"Ah- how much is it? I think I have a twenty in my pocket somewhere." She rummaged in her jeans pockets, but he shook his head.

"No, don't worry about that. If you're here at all, you might as well have already paid."

This was a rather odd comment to make, but nevertheless she wasn't complaining. _Never look a gift horse in the mouth._

All of a sudden, she heard a piercing screech from the door to the right of her. Gregory balled his paw into a fist and banged it on the door.

"You be quiet in there! Gah, I bet the whole house is awake now. Don't mind that, my dear," he added, seeing her disquieted expression; "that's just Neko Zombie. He used to be a lovely cat… until one day, someone sewed everything shut! What a gruesome thing…" He embellished on the tale, but she wasn't listening. She had a feeling that she was being watched. They stopped at the next door down from Neko Zombie's room, and she slipped inside.

"Thank you, mister… Gregory, I presume? It was written on the front of the building…"

"Yes, that's me alright. Now you should get some rest. Oh, but – sign here, please." He thrust a logbook in her face, and she took the pen he offered, scribbling her name quickly.

"I don't have a real signature," she apologised, eyeing the messy scrawl with a look of disdain.

"That's fine, just as long as we have your name, er…" He squinted at the page. "…Amber. Goodnight, now!"

He shut the door with a quiet click and she listened to his footsteps padding off down the corridor. Apparently she was expected to sleep now.

Amber was a night owl at heart. Coupled with the rest she'd had earlier on the train journey, and the chocolate bar she now found in her pocket, she had a late-night sugar rush and she certainly didn't feel like sleeping.

There was the sound of rails from outside. Curiosity got the better of her. She reached for the door.


	2. Passing Judgement

"Do you know my naaaame…?"

Strangely melodic. He had a neat voice. "Hey! You there!"

Judgement Boy whirled around to face her, returning her smile. "Greetings! A new guest, I see!"

"Haha, yes. My name's Amber. And you?"

The personified set of scales span wildly for a moment. "They call me Judgment Boy!" he sang, clearly showing off. She grinned. Finally, someone more energetic than she was.

"You know, I'm going to have that song stuck in my head all day. I heard you a minute ago. Do you just sing non-stop?"

He paused for a second. "You seem to have a very confused soul… or perhaps 'confusing' would work better in this situation. It seems you have a lot on your mind…"

"Oh, I get it. You judge souls or something, right?" A sarcastic voice inside her told her that putting two and two together shouldn't have taken this long.

"Well, let's see, shall we?" His voice took on a slightly darker tone. "You're a businesswoman. Today you will sign a major contract that will change your life. But your boyfriend who you love has just been hit by a car! If you go to the hospital, you'll lose that contract! Which will you choose?" He smirked, waiting for her answer. The scales shifted back and forth while she decided. "If you try to weigh your money against your love, there is no doubt your heart will start to sway. If you try to weigh your love against your money, your heart will start to break…"

Amber brushed her long, blonde hair out of her eyes and watched the heart symbol moving slowly up and down, carefully trying to pick out an answer.

"I think… I would probably go to sign the contract." _Of course, I'd go to the hospital straight after, right?_

"Well, that's an interesting development! There aren't many people who outright _say_ they'd choose money over love. Well, then… I say we ask the Scales of Truth!" He span around again, and Amber watched with mild interest. "Judgment!" he cried out, and stopped suddenly. The scales wavered. Then…

The heart shattered on the ground. She eyed the pieces as they faded and vanished.

"You chose the contract. You gained a sponsorship for your business, but while you were at the signing your boyfriend died alone in a hospital bed. It was your choice. Now you get to live with it!"

Amber felt disheartened somehow. She hadn't thought that a simple choice that wasn't even real could be so shocking. Certainly it shouldn't have affected her so strongly.

"I understand, I suppose." She sighed. "That was disconcerting, to say the least."

"It was in _your_ heart." With that, he merely turned to his original path and zoomed off into the darkness towards the end of the corridor. He began singing again. It rang in Amber's ears and she just knew she'd never be able to forget that tune.

"Do you know who I am…? They call me _Judgment Boooy_…"

Maybe she would try and get some sleep, after all. If there was anyone stranger than Judgment Boy in this hotel, she would definitely need it.

***

She awoke with a jolt. She'd been half-asleep for about an hour already, but she'd just had one of those falling sensations – like missing a step on the stairs by accident, or tilting so much you realise you're going to fall over.

Amber sat up and brushed her hair out of her eyes. It was horribly messy. She reached for the brush on her bedside table. The handle was stained red for some reason, but the rest was clean and she wasn't complaining as long as it got her hair back to some semblance of neatness. She had a nasty feeling it was blood. There was a little on the floor just beneath her desk, too.

Replacing the brush finally, she stood up and slipped her shoes back on. Sleeping in her clothes didn't bother her. She didn't do it unless there was no other choice, like last night, but it still didn't seem as horrific to her as it might to some other people she knew.

Gregory had pointed her to the sauna room last night, where there was a sink. She grabbed the key from her desk, slipped out, and headed for the lobby first. Slipping into the shop she'd noticed on the way in, she saw Gregory behind the counter. Amber could've sworn she just saw him in the corner of the room, in his usual place behind his desk.

She didn't question it.

"Excuse me, do you sell toothbrushes?"

He looked at her, raised a brow, and pointed to the shelf beside her. She glanced at it. There was a row of them right there.

"Oh. Right. Haha. Er, wait… I think I left my money back in-"

"We can trade, don't worry about money while you're in this hotel. Anything in your pockets?"

She shrugged and went through them. Finding a small pendant with a flower on it, she eyed it in disdain and put it on the counter. "That's it. I never liked this one. Too gaudy. Flowers are nice in real life, but not on jewellery." She grinned. What a strange way of doing things. Not that she was complaining; otherwise she'd be unable to pay.

She picked a light blue toothbrush and some toothpaste, and he held the door open for her. "Thanks." And then she left, glancing over to the desk by the main doors. Gregory was still there, now talking to a candle guy with a huge cleaver over his shoulder. She looked back, but the shop door had already shut.

Shaking her head, she didn't think about this too hard.


End file.
